


Voyage

by Riene



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-06 08:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12813954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riene/pseuds/Riene
Summary: Saru is the only Kelpien in Starfleet.  After the events at the Battle of the Binary Stars he is assigned to the Discovery, the Federation's newest project ship.  On the surface it is a research vessel, but the Klingon War takes the ship and crew in different directions.Voyage is a retelling of the events aboard Discovery from Commander Saru’s point of view.  The story lines will follow the series exactly, but with additional scenes and characters.





	1. Chapter 1-An Old Acquaintance

**Author's Note:**

> A/N –Welcome to my new story, a retelling of the events aboard Discovery from Commander Saru’s point of view. The storylines will follow the series exactly, but with additional scenes and characters. I’m quite the Saru fan, so please know in advance that he will have a love interest later on the story.
> 
> I’ve been a Star Trek fan for more years than I care to reveal, and have seen every episode of every series, most of them multiple times, and own a couple hundred of the novels. While I will endeavor to get all of the references and details correct, please feel free to correct me where I am in error. I appreciate feedback, comments, and questions.
> 
> So now…onward.

** Episode 3   _Context is for Kings_ **

Original series script by Bryan Fuller, Gretchen J. Berg, and Aaron Harberts

Chapter 1-An Old Acquaintance

Original characters, scenes, and background by Riene

 

_Six months later._

 

Commander Saru sat in the captain’s chair, watching the screen, listening to the conversations and familiar equipment chirps around him, and thinking.

He’d done a lot of that in the last six months.

There had been a few pleasant moments. Receiving his rank advancement had been one, and the commendation for taking command of the _Shenzhou._ He hadn’t done it out of heroics, more so a sense of duty and command structure.   The grim task of somehow getting the crew rescued from the crippled ship and as much as possible salvaged had given them all a focus, a way to keep from remembering that day and its aftermath, and it was what his captain would have expected from him.

There had been endless rounds of debriefings and a tribunal where he had been expected to testify, as senior surviving ranking officer. There had been a medical exam and psychological evaluation to see if he was fit to return to duty, though he suspected the psychologist wasn’t quite sure how to gauge his responses. Among his most painful memories had been the memorial for Captain Georgiou. He’d given a speech, but knew in his heart he had failed to do her justice. There had been an enforced week of leave, but he had been at such loose ends that he had asked for them to please speed up his reassignment.

And that had led to his present situation.

Saru received orders that he was being promoted to full Commander and First Officer of a new ship, one of the Federation’s special project ships. The _Crossfield-class_ vessel was called _Discovery_ , a good sign, he thought, and the contents of the sealed, classified orders were enough to make his eyes widen. A new technology that enabled the ship to make “jumps” without warp drive, a mission of exploration, but with the responsibility of protecting the quadrant they were in, not unlike _Shenzhou_. The _Discovery_ was also tasked with a wide variety of extended research, with its labs capable of accommodating more than three hundred separate projects simultaneously. The Captain, a Human male named Gabriel Lorca, had requested him by name.

Lorca had proven to be a compact, athletic man in his mid-forties, with short dark hair, an abrupt manner, and a dry, though seldom seen, sense of humor.   He was not a man who accepted excuses or explanations, nor did he reveal much, preferring to set matters in motion then watching and evaluating.

“Welcome to _Discovery_. I’m Gabriel Lorca,” he’d said, holding out his hand. Saru had little time to form an opinion of his new surroundings, for Lorca had given him barely long enough to deposit his duffle in his new quarters before he found himself standing in the captain’s ready room receiving a highly unusual briefing on the ship, its mission, and crew.

 _Discovery_ now felt like home. He found he enjoyed and even excelled in the position of XO, and still felt a faint flush when Lorca referred to him with the honorific of Number One. The man had smiled the first time he’d used the term, a sign of the respect he felt for his alien First Officer.

Saru would not let him down.

The ship ran smoothly, there were no personnel issues or inter-departmental conflicts. His position on the bridge was secure, his authority unquestioned. Captain Lorca valued his input. Though he suspected he would never feel the same warmth toward Lorca as he had toward Philippa Georgiou, the Kelpien liked and respected his captain.  

Something was amiss today, though. He could feel it in his ganglia. The captain had ordered an abrupt course change and retired to his ready room without explanation. Thoughtfully, Saru ordered the long-range sensors to scan the projected path in front of them, but for what he did not know, then sat back and waited.

 

“Commander?”

Saru looked down at the conn officer. “Yes?”

“Sir, long range sensors are picking up a ship ahead of us. We will intercept it if we continue on this course,” Detmer frowned.

 _Indeed._ “Have you any more information.”

“It’s one of ours, Starfleet transport shuttle. Course suggests it is heading to the mining colony on Tellinar.”

 _Are we meeting this vessel? If so, why was I not informed?_ _But Tellinar?_ “Have we any other information about the shuttle?”

“No, sir.”

Steady on, Lieutenant,” he said calmly. “Maintain present course and speed.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Commander Saru?”   He swung the chair around, tilting his head expectantly, as Lt Rhys stared frowning at the scanner monitor.   “Sir, the sensors are giving us some anomalous readings on that shuttle. The structure appears to be…sir, it has a bug infestation...species GS 54.”

Lightning bugs. Saru felt a tingle of alarm himself and at the conn, Lt. Owosekun shuddered. Saru leaned forward. “Lt. Detmer, increase speed to intercept. They may need a hand. Shields at twenty percent; we don’t want any of them ourselves.”

Behind him the ready room doors snapped open. “Status, Mr. Saru?” Lorca’s voice was unruffled.

Saru stood, moving away from the captain’s chair and back to his own station.   “Sir, we are in process of intercepting a transport shuttle with an infestation of species GS 54.”

“Sir, the shuttle is overwhelmed…and the pilot’s tether has come loose!” Rhys said urgently.

“Get a tractor beam on that shuttle and decontaminate it. Transport, can you get a lock on that pilot?”

“Aye sir.”

“Bring it on board as soon as it’s clean, or isolate it if you can’t.   Commander Landry, send a security team to the shuttle bay and go meet our new guests.”

Landry raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Saru.

“Captain,” the First Officer said carefully, “exactly who is on this shuttle?”

Lorca smiled faintly to himself, turning to look up at his Chief of Security and XO. “Michael Burnham.”

 

Saru strode the corridors, his booted feet making a heavy cadence on the metal floor. Back home, on Kelpia, such noise might have been fatal.   Here, he was merely going to face a problem of another kind.

He’d been at breakfast when the summons came to escort Burnham from her quarters to Engineering. He had, of course, left immediately but carried a bowl of blueberries with him.   Escort duties were beneath his status, but he rather suspected the captain was allowing him a few minutes to speak with their new guest alone, to handle any personal issues during that time.   Lorca was not a man who tolerated disputes.

The escort may have been as much for her own protection, he mused. Other than the one brief, unsettling look when she’d been brought to the bridge, he’d not seen his former shipmate since her arrival. Keyla Detmer had returned to the bridge the day before, white-faced and somewhat shaken after having encountered Burnham in the mess hall, her shock turning to anger, he’d overheard her confess to Joann Owosekun. The lieutenant had been badly injured during the Battle of the Binary Stars, requiring ocular and cranial implants to regain her sight and function.   Detmer had been offered a medical discharge and refused, something Saru admired.

And now as he approached Burnham’s cabin doors, Saru too could feel only a cold anger.

 

Somehow she was smaller than he remembered, a deceptively slight, dark-skinned Human with a now haunted expression. Had there been just the slightest hint of relief in her eyes at the sight of him? She’d blinked, a line appearing between her brows, and lowered her head respectfully.   “Saru.”

“First Officer Saru,” he corrected gravely. Now it was his turn to be the superior officer. He stepped aside, motioning Burnham to come into the corridor.   “With me…please.”

She followed, and hey walked in silence for some seconds. “You’re famous,” he said, giving a steely look at the passing, gawking crew. “They all want a peek.”

“Congratulations on your promotion,” Michael said quietly.

He simply nodded. “Thank you.   The powers that be were impressed by my actions at the Battle of the Binary Stars. But,” he shook his head, “upon my own reflection of that day, my only wish is that I could have done more.”

“I understand,” she sighed, glancing at him then staring impassively ahead.

He glanced down at her tight expression. “Blueberries?” He offered the glass bowl, and surprised, she took a handful, chewing slowly.

“The ones in prison don’t taste the same.”

“I suppose that is a function of the environment you’re eating them in, instead of a food synthesizer issue.”

 _Was he making a joke?_ “I suppose so.”

“So many people with so many places to go,” she observed, watching the crew striding quickly down the corridors.

“On _Discovery_ , our facilities can accommodate 300 discreet scientific missions, a Starfleet record.”

“So this is a science vessel?” she asked, surprised, as they paused outside a sealed set of doors.

“Ah…” Saru paused, avoiding the question. He turned to face her, and indicated the doors. “You’ve been assigned to engineering. Lt. Stamets will task you with specific duties.” He nodded formally and stepped aside, preparing to return to his station, when she spoke again.

“Saru…” she hesitated. “First…Officer Saru. I saw a recording of the speech you gave at the Captain’s funeral. It was beautiful. I never thought I’d get a chance to say this to you. I think about what happened every day. All the time. I owe you. I’m trying to say…” she struggled for the words and he took pity on the unhappiness in her eyes.

“I’m sorry?”

“Yes.”

“I believe you feel regret, but” he sighed “…in my mind, you are dangerous.   C Lorca is a man who does not fear the things normal people fear. But I do.   And you are someone to fear, Michael Burnham.”

“I just want to get back on that shuttle, Commander.   I won’t make any trouble for you here.”

He bit back a flash of anger. “Well that is certain. But if you try, know that I intend to do a better job protecting my captain than you did yours.” She flinched, and Saru indicated the engineering doors, and walked away.

 

“She’s accessed the spore bay,” Saru said sourly. “Just as you predicted.”

Lorca nodded. “Creative.”   They were standing in the ready room, watching Michael Burnham on the ship’s internal monitors. He’d received Lt. Stamets’ report on Burnham’s tasking and results from the day, and sent it to his XO, along with a request to meet him later that night.

“I’ll re-enable the secondary security protocols after she leaves,” the First Officer continued, folding his arms.

“Lt. Stamets won’t appreciate that,” Lorca chuckled.

“He will simply have to accept it.”

Saru glanced disapprovingly at the monitor again. He’d voiced his objections only once, and Lorca had given him that icy blue stare.

“Georgiou wrote highly of you both, in her logs. It’s not the way I would have preferred to add either of you to my crew, Commander, but I will not pass up this opportunity. Any further comments?”

“No, sir.”

 

“Incoming message for the Captain,” announced Lt. Richter. “Classified and highest priority.”

“Patch it back to his ready room,” Saru ordered. Only two hours into the shift and already a high-priority message from Starfleet. He felt a tingle as the base of his skull. _Not good_. A few minutes later the ready room doors parted and Lorca, looking as grim as the First Officer had ever seen him, emerged.

“Lt. Airiam, you have the conn. Number One, you’re with me.”

He followed the captain in to the turbolift, where Lorca turned to him the moment the doors sealed. “The _Glenn_ went down with all hands a few hours back, following a failed jump.   Command wants us to get in there and retrieve all of the spore drive equipment, computers, and the like. The _Glenn_ was near the Klingon border.   I’m sure I don’t have to say anything more.”

“No, sir.”

He followed the captain toward Engineering. “Sir, if I may…I would highly recommend Michael Burnham be included on the away team.”

Lorca raised both eyebrows and made a continue gesture. Saru felt carefully for words. “She was…is…a highly-trained officer, adept at tactical situations, intelligent and due to her Vulcan training, calm and logical in emergencies.   We do not know what we will be facing over on the _Glenn_ , and I am certain she could be useful.”

Lorca nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They emerged from the lift and headed to engineering. The duty crew spun around, surprised at the sight of their command staff standing on the entry bridge. Lorca swept them with his stern gaze, certain he had their attention, and as was his way, launched into an explanation with no preliminaries.

“During the last hour, while performing Black Alert maneuvers, there was an…incident...on our sister ship, the USS _Glenn_.” He looked directly at Lt. Stamets. “The entire crew was lost.”

Tilly and Burnham exchanged startled glanced, and Paul Stamets glanced at Commander Saru, who looked at the ground in sympathy. “What happened? Was it a…bloom failure?” He struggled to find words, his voice shaking.

“Sending a boarding party to find out. Lt. Stamets, you will accompany Commander Landry and ensure that _everything_ related to the project returns to this ship.”

“Why not just transport what we need from the _Glenn_ over to us?” he asked, frowning.

“The room holding the equipment is shielded,” Saru explained.

“Shielded? That’s curious,” Stamets said slowly. Tilly shot a shot at their own equipment, and Burnham frowned.

“Indeed,” Saru replied.

“Let’s not indulge that curiosity,” Lorca said, cutting him off. “It went down by Klingon territory. Let’s get in and get out.”

“Really? We’re running drills near Klingon space?” Stamets snapped.

“ _We are at war_ , Lieutenant.   I’d appreciate a day going by without me having to _remind_ you of that!” Lorca snapped.

Stamets struggled to control his temper. “Well Captain, I will need to take a team with me, you know, for the cumbersome, annoying science part?”

“Take a team; do it quickly.” He glanced at Saru and made a decision. “Take Burnham with you.” Lorca headed back out the door, and behind him, Stamets nearly began stuttering in his objections.

“Sir! It’s one thing to make her a data cruncher in the lab! But to integrate her into this project at such a deep level?”

Captain Lorca took a deep breath, turned around and said flatly. “I understand that you lost a friend today.   This…is _not_ a democracy. _You understand?”_

“Yes _sir_.”

Lorca shot him a glance and turned to Saru. “Number One, you sailed with Burnham on the Shezhou. What is your assessment of her abilities?”

Saru turned, locking eyes with Burnham, and dipped his head slightly.   He took a deep breath. “Her mutiny aside, she is…the smartest Star Fleet officer I have ever known.”

Lorca smirked, looked down at Stamets, and cocked his head. “And he knows you.”

 

Hours later, Saru stood on the bridge, supervising the evening shift, one hand on the back of the captain’s chair. Behind him the turbolift doors snapped open and he turned. Michael Burnham stood here, dressed again in her ochre-yellow prison jumpsuit. She looked around the bridge, resignation and longing in her eyes. “Permission to enter the bridge, Commander Saru? The captain requested my presence.”

The tall Kelpien nodded. “Permission granted. Commander Airiam, you have the conn.” She nodded.

He moved toward Burnham and lowered his voice. “The other prisoners are being transferred to the shuttle now.   It’s scheduled to leave within the hour.”

She nodded. I’ll be on it, sir.”

They walked slowly toward the ready room, Saru’s voice pitched only for her ears.   “It has not gone unnoticed that during your time on this ship you conducted yourself in a respectable manner.   And from what I understand, you were invaluable to the boarding party, which I was pleased to hear, since I was the one who recommended your involvement.”

She felt the faint prickle of tears. “I appreciate your faith in me.”

Saru made an abrupt gesture, cut off. “Oh, you were always a good officer…until you weren’t. If…only you hadn’t…” He took a deep breath, a formal goodbye.

“You are a valuable asset. It is lost for Star Fleet,” he said sadly.

“Thank you.” She gave one last glance around the room, at his retreating, tall figure, and entered the ready room.

 

Saru sat alone in the officer’s mess hall later that evening, adding salt to his brewing herbal tea. The away team mission had been successful, retrieving valuable equipment and the group was now busily extracting information from the corrupted logs. He had overseen the arrangements for the destruction of the _Glenn_ earlier, not an assignment to be proud of, but he understood the necessity. The sister ship drifted to their port, awaiting her final honors. It had been a long day.

Through the lounge windows he watched as the shuttle prison transport crept around the side of the ship on thrusters, clearing the hull and moving slightly away before engaging its warp drive. “Shuttle for prison colony, cleared for warp,” announced the all-call, and a strong prickling crept down his neck, his threat ganglia emerging, flickering in the quiet of the lounge. The shuttle turned, its engines glowing blue, and disappeared. Saru smoothed his ganglia, unsettled. What had changed?

 

I hope you liked it!   Please give me some feedback on this chapter. Chp 2 / Episode 4 will be up soon.

** Episode 3   _Context is for Kings_ **

Original series script by Bryan Fuller, Gretchen J. Berg, and Aaron Harberts

Original characters, scenes, and background by Riene

 

_Six months later._

 

Commander Saru sat in the captain’s chair, watching the screen, listening to the conversations and familiar equipment chirps around him, and thinking.

He’d done a lot of that in the last six months.

There had been a few pleasant moments. Receiving his rank advancement had been one, and the commendation for taking command of the _Shenzhou._ He hadn’t done it out of heroics, more so a sense of duty and command structure.   The grim task of somehow getting the crew rescued from the crippled ship and as much as possible salvaged had given them all a focus, a way to keep from remembering that day and its aftermath, and it was what his captain would have expected from him.

There had been endless rounds of debriefings and a tribunal where he had been expected to testify, as senior surviving ranking officer. There had been a medical exam and psychological evaluation to see if he was fit to return to duty, though he suspected the psychologist wasn’t quite sure how to gauge his responses. Among his most painful memories had been the memorial for Captain Georgiou. He’d given a speech, but knew in his heart he had failed to do her justice. There had been an enforced week of leave, but he had been at such loose ends that he had asked for them to please speed up his reassignment.

And that had led to his present situation.

Saru received orders that he was being promoted to full Commander and First Officer of a new ship, one of the Federation’s special project ships. The _Crossfield-class_ vessel was called _Discovery_ , a good sign, he thought, and the contents of the sealed, classified orders were enough to make his eyes widen. A new technology that enabled the ship to make “jumps” without warp drive, a mission of exploration, but with the responsibility of protecting the quadrant they were in, not unlike _Shenzhou_. The _Discovery_ was also tasked with a wide variety of extended research, with its labs capable of accommodating more than three hundred separate projects simultaneously. The Captain, a Human male named Gabriel Lorca, had requested him by name.

Lorca had proven to be a compact, athletic man in his mid-forties, with short dark hair, an abrupt manner, and a dry, though seldom seen, sense of humor.   He was not a man who accepted excuses or explanations, nor did he reveal much, preferring to set matters in motion then watching and evaluating.

“Welcome to _Discovery_. I’m Gabriel Lorca,” he’d said, holding out his hand. Saru had little time to form an opinion of his new surroundings, for Lorca had given him barely long enough to deposit his duffle in his new quarters before he found himself standing in the captain’s ready room receiving a highly unusual briefing on the ship, its mission, and crew.

 _Discovery_ now felt like home. He found he enjoyed and even excelled in the position of XO, and still felt a faint flush when Lorca referred to him with the honorific of Number One. The man had smiled the first time he’d used the term, a sign of the respect he felt for his alien First Officer.

Saru would not let him down.

The ship ran smoothly, there were no personnel issues or inter-departmental conflicts. His position on the bridge was secure, his authority unquestioned. Captain Lorca valued his input. Though he suspected he would never feel the same warmth toward Lorca as he had toward Philippa Georgiou, the Kelpien liked and respected his captain.  

Something was amiss today, though. He could feel it in his ganglia. The captain had ordered an abrupt course change and retired to his ready room without explanation. Thoughtfully, Saru ordered the long-range sensors to scan the projected path in front of them, but for what he did not know, then sat back and waited.

 

“Commander?”

Saru looked down at the conn officer. “Yes?”

“Sir, long range sensors are picking up a ship ahead of us. We will intercept it if we continue on this course,” Detmer frowned.

 _Indeed._ “Have you any more information.”

“It’s one of ours, Starfleet transport shuttle. Course suggests it is heading to the mining colony on Tellinar.”

 _Are we meeting this vessel? If so, why was I not informed?_ _But Tellinar?_ “Have we any other information about the shuttle?”

“No, sir.”

Steady on, Lieutenant,” he said calmly. “Maintain present course and speed.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Commander Saru?”   He swung the chair around, tilting his head expectantly, as Lt Rhys stared frowning at the scanner monitor.   “Sir, the sensors are giving us some anomalous readings on that shuttle. The structure appears to be…sir, it has a bug infestation...species GS 54.”

Lightning bugs. Saru felt a tingle of alarm himself and at the conn, Lt. Owosekun shuddered. Saru leaned forward. “Lt. Detmer, increase speed to intercept. They may need a hand. Shields at twenty percent; we don’t want any of them ourselves.”

Behind him the ready room doors snapped open. “Status, Mr. Saru?” Lorca’s voice was unruffled.

Saru stood, moving away from the captain’s chair and back to his own station.   “Sir, we are in process of intercepting a transport shuttle with an infestation of species GS 54.”

“Sir, the shuttle is overwhelmed…and the pilot’s tether has come loose!” Rhys said urgently.

“Get a tractor beam on that shuttle and decontaminate it. Transport, can you get a lock on that pilot?”

“Aye sir.”

“Bring it on board as soon as it’s clean, or isolate it if you can’t.   Commander Landry, send a security team to the shuttle bay and go meet our new guests.”

Landry raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Saru.

“Captain,” the First Officer said carefully, “exactly who is on this shuttle?”

Lorca smiled faintly to himself, turning to look up at his Chief of Security and XO. “Michael Burnham.”

 

Saru strode the corridors, his booted feet making a heavy cadence on the metal floor. Back home, on Kelpia, such noise might have been fatal.   Here, he was merely going to face a problem of another kind.

He’d been at breakfast when the summons came to escort Burnham from her quarters to Engineering. He had, of course, left immediately but carried a bowl of blueberries with him.   Escort duties were beneath his status, but he rather suspected the captain was allowing him a few minutes to speak with their new guest alone, to handle any personal issues during that time.   Lorca was not a man who tolerated disputes.

The escort may have been as much for her own protection, he mused. Other than the one brief, unsettling look when she’d been brought to the bridge, he’d not seen his former shipmate since her arrival. Keyla Detmer had returned to the bridge the day before, white-faced and somewhat shaken after having encountered Burnham in the mess hall, her shock turning to anger, he’d overheard her confess to Joann Owosekun. The lieutenant had been badly injured during the Battle of the Binary Stars, requiring ocular and cranial implants to regain her sight and function.   Detmer had been offered a medical discharge and refused, something Saru admired.

And now as he approached Burnham’s cabin doors, Saru too could feel only a cold anger.

 

Somehow she was smaller than he remembered, a deceptively slight, dark-skinned Human with a now haunted expression. Had there been just the slightest hint of relief in her eyes at the sight of him? She’d blinked, a line appearing between her brows, and lowered her head respectfully.   “Saru.”

“First Officer Saru,” he corrected gravely. Now it was his turn to be the superior officer. He stepped aside, motioning Burnham to come into the corridor.   “With me…please.”

She followed, and hey walked in silence for some seconds. “You’re famous,” he said, giving a steely look at the passing, gawking crew. “They all want a peek.”

“Congratulations on your promotion,” Michael said quietly.

He simply nodded. “Thank you.   The powers that be were impressed by my actions at the Battle of the Binary Stars. But,” he shook his head, “upon my own reflection of that day, my only wish is that I could have done more.”

“I understand,” she sighed, glancing at him then staring impassively ahead.

He glanced down at her tight expression. “Blueberries?” He offered the glass bowl, and surprised, she took a handful, chewing slowly.

“The ones in prison don’t taste the same.”

“I suppose that is a function of the environment you’re eating them in, instead of a food synthesizer issue.”

 _Was he making a joke?_ “I suppose so.”

“So many people with so many places to go,” she observed, watching the crew striding quickly down the corridors.

“On _Discovery_ , our facilities can accommodate 300 discreet scientific missions, a Starfleet record.”

“So this is a science vessel?” she asked, surprised, as they paused outside a sealed set of doors.

“Ah…” Saru paused, avoiding the question. He turned to face her, and indicated the doors. “You’ve been assigned to engineering. Lt. Stamets will task you with specific duties.” He nodded formally and stepped aside, preparing to return to his station, when she spoke again.

“Saru…” she hesitated. “First…Officer Saru. I saw a recording of the speech you gave at the Captain’s funeral. It was beautiful. I never thought I’d get a chance to say this to you. I think about what happened every day. All the time. I owe you. I’m trying to say…” she struggled for the words and he took pity on the unhappiness in her eyes.

“I’m sorry?”

“Yes.”

“I believe you feel regret, but” he sighed “…in my mind, you are dangerous.   C Lorca is a man who does not fear the things normal people fear. But I do.   And you are someone to fear, Michael Burnham.”

“I just want to get back on that shuttle, Commander.   I won’t make any trouble for you here.”

He bit back a flash of anger. “Well that is certain. But if you try, know that I intend to do a better job protecting my captain than you did yours.” She flinched, and Saru indicated the engineering doors, and walked away.

 

“She’s accessed the spore bay,” Saru said sourly. “Just as you predicted.”

Lorca nodded. “Creative.”   They were standing in the ready room, watching Michael Burnham on the ship’s internal monitors. He’d received Lt. Stamets’ report on Burnham’s tasking and results from the day, and sent it to his XO, along with a request to meet him later that night.

“I’ll re-enable the secondary security protocols after she leaves,” the First Officer continued, folding his arms.

“Lt. Stamets won’t appreciate that,” Lorca chuckled.

“He will simply have to accept it.”

Saru glanced disapprovingly at the monitor again. He’d voiced his objections only once, and Lorca had given him that icy blue stare.

“Georgiou wrote highly of you both, in her logs. It’s not the way I would have preferred to add either of you to my crew, Commander, but I will not pass up this opportunity. Any further comments?”

“No, sir.”

 

“Incoming message for the Captain,” announced Lt. Richter. “Classified and highest priority.”

“Patch it back to his ready room,” Saru ordered. Only two hours into the shift and already a high-priority message from Starfleet. He felt a tingle as the base of his skull. _Not good_. A few minutes later the ready room doors parted and Lorca, looking as grim as the First Officer had ever seen him, emerged.

“Lt. Airiam, you have the conn. Number One, you’re with me.”

He followed the captain in to the turbolift, where Lorca turned to him the moment the doors sealed. “The _Glenn_ went down with all hands a few hours back, following a failed jump.   Command wants us to get in there and retrieve all of the spore drive equipment, computers, and the like. The _Glenn_ was near the Klingon border.   I’m sure I don’t have to say anything more.”

“No, sir.”

He followed the captain toward Engineering. “Sir, if I may…I would highly recommend Michael Burnham be included on the away team.”

Lorca raised both eyebrows and made a continue gesture. Saru felt carefully for words. “She was…is…a highly-trained officer, adept at tactical situations, intelligent and due to her Vulcan training, calm and logical in emergencies.   We do not know what we will be facing over on the _Glenn_ , and I am certain she could be useful.”

Lorca nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They emerged from the lift and headed to engineering. The duty crew spun around, surprised at the sight of their command staff standing on the entry bridge. Lorca swept them with his stern gaze, certain he had their attention, and as was his way, launched into an explanation with no preliminaries.

“During the last hour, while performing Black Alert maneuvers, there was an…incident...on our sister ship, the USS _Glenn_.” He looked directly at Lt. Stamets. “The entire crew was lost.”

Tilly and Burnham exchanged startled glanced, and Paul Stamets glanced at Commander Saru, who looked at the ground in sympathy. “What happened? Was it a…bloom failure?” He struggled to find words, his voice shaking.

“Sending a boarding party to find out. Lt. Stamets, you will accompany Commander Landry and ensure that _everything_ related to the project returns to this ship.”

“Why not just transport what we need from the _Glenn_ over to us?” he asked, frowning.

“The room holding the equipment is shielded,” Saru explained.

“Shielded? That’s curious,” Stamets said slowly. Tilly shot a shot at their own equipment, and Burnham frowned.

“Indeed,” Saru replied.

“Let’s not indulge that curiosity,” Lorca said, cutting him off. “It went down by Klingon territory. Let’s get in and get out.”

“Really? We’re running drills near Klingon space?” Stamets snapped.

“ _We are at war_ , Lieutenant.   I’d appreciate a day going by without me having to _remind_ you of that!” Lorca snapped.

Stamets struggled to control his temper. “Well Captain, I will need to take a team with me, you know, for the cumbersome, annoying science part?”

“Take a team; do it quickly.” He glanced at Saru and made a decision. “Take Burnham with you.” Lorca headed back out the door, and behind him, Stamets nearly began stuttering in his objections.

“Sir! It’s one thing to make her a data cruncher in the lab! But to integrate her into this project at such a deep level?”

Captain Lorca took a deep breath, turned around and said flatly. “I understand that you lost a friend today.   This…is _not_ a democracy. _You understand?”_

“Yes _sir_.”

Lorca shot him a glance and turned to Saru. “Number One, you sailed with Burnham on the Shezhou. What is your assessment of her abilities?”

Saru turned, locking eyes with Burnham, and dipped his head slightly.   He took a deep breath. “Her mutiny aside, she is…the smartest Star Fleet officer I have ever known.”

Lorca smirked, looked down at Stamets, and cocked his head. “And he knows you.”

 

Hours later, Saru stood on the bridge, supervising the evening shift, one hand on the back of the captain’s chair. Behind him the turbolift doors snapped open and he turned. Michael Burnham stood here, dressed again in her ochre-yellow prison jumpsuit. She looked around the bridge, resignation and longing in her eyes. “Permission to enter the bridge, Commander Saru? The captain requested my presence.”

The tall Kelpien nodded. “Permission granted. Commander Airiam, you have the conn.” She nodded.

He moved toward Burnham and lowered his voice. “The other prisoners are being transferred to the shuttle now.   It’s scheduled to leave within the hour.”

She nodded. I’ll be on it, sir.”

They walked slowly toward the ready room, Saru’s voice pitched only for her ears.   “It has not gone unnoticed that during your time on this ship you conducted yourself in a respectable manner.   And from what I understand, you were invaluable to the boarding party, which I was pleased to hear, since I was the one who recommended your involvement.”

She felt the faint prickle of tears. “I appreciate your faith in me.”

Saru made an abrupt gesture, cut off. “Oh, you were always a good officer…until you weren’t. If…only you hadn’t…” He took a deep breath, a formal goodbye.

“You are a valuable asset. It is lost for Star Fleet,” he said sadly.

“Thank you.” She gave one last glance around the room, at his retreating, tall figure, and entered the ready room.

 

Saru sat alone in the officer’s mess hall later that evening, adding salt to his brewing herbal tea. The away team mission had been successful, retrieving valuable equipment and the group was now busily extracting information from the corrupted logs. He had overseen the arrangements for the destruction of the _Glenn_ earlier, not an assignment to be proud of, but he understood the necessity. The sister ship drifted to their port, awaiting her final honors. It had been a long day.

Through the lounge windows he watched as the shuttle prison transport crept around the side of the ship on thrusters, clearing the hull and moving slightly away before engaging its warp drive. “Shuttle for prison colony, cleared for warp,” announced the all-call, and a strong prickling crept down his neck, his threat ganglia emerging, flickering in the quiet of the lounge. The shuttle turned, its engines glowing blue, and disappeared. Saru smoothed his ganglia, unsettled. What had changed?

 

I hope you liked it!   Please give me some feedback on this chapter. Chp 2 / Episode 4 will be up soon.

** Episode 3   _Context is for Kings_ **

Original series script by Bryan Fuller, Gretchen J. Berg, and Aaron Harberts

Original characters, scenes, and background by Riene

 

_Six months later._

 

Commander Saru sat in the captain’s chair, watching the screen, listening to the conversations and familiar equipment chirps around him, and thinking.

He’d done a lot of that in the last six months.

There had been a few pleasant moments. Receiving his rank advancement had been one, and the commendation for taking command of the _Shenzhou._ He hadn’t done it out of heroics, more so a sense of duty and command structure.   The grim task of somehow getting the crew rescued from the crippled ship and as much as possible salvaged had given them all a focus, a way to keep from remembering that day and its aftermath, and it was what his captain would have expected from him.

There had been endless rounds of debriefings and a tribunal where he had been expected to testify, as senior surviving ranking officer. There had been a medical exam and psychological evaluation to see if he was fit to return to duty, though he suspected the psychologist wasn’t quite sure how to gauge his responses. Among his most painful memories had been the memorial for Captain Georgiou. He’d given a speech, but knew in his heart he had failed to do her justice. There had been an enforced week of leave, but he had been at such loose ends that he had asked for them to please speed up his reassignment.

And that had led to his present situation.

Saru received orders that he was being promoted to full Commander and First Officer of a new ship, one of the Federation’s special project ships. The _Crossfield-class_ vessel was called _Discovery_ , a good sign, he thought, and the contents of the sealed, classified orders were enough to make his eyes widen. A new technology that enabled the ship to make “jumps” without warp drive, a mission of exploration, but with the responsibility of protecting the quadrant they were in, not unlike _Shenzhou_. The _Discovery_ was also tasked with a wide variety of extended research, with its labs capable of accommodating more than three hundred separate projects simultaneously. The Captain, a Human male named Gabriel Lorca, had requested him by name.

Lorca had proven to be a compact, athletic man in his mid-forties, with short dark hair, an abrupt manner, and a dry, though seldom seen, sense of humor.   He was not a man who accepted excuses or explanations, nor did he reveal much, preferring to set matters in motion then watching and evaluating.

“Welcome to _Discovery_. I’m Gabriel Lorca,” he’d said, holding out his hand. Saru had little time to form an opinion of his new surroundings, for Lorca had given him barely long enough to deposit his duffle in his new quarters before he found himself standing in the captain’s ready room receiving a highly unusual briefing on the ship, its mission, and crew.

 _Discovery_ now felt like home. He found he enjoyed and even excelled in the position of XO, and still felt a faint flush when Lorca referred to him with the honorific of Number One. The man had smiled the first time he’d used the term, a sign of the respect he felt for his alien First Officer.

Saru would not let him down.

The ship ran smoothly, there were no personnel issues or inter-departmental conflicts. His position on the bridge was secure, his authority unquestioned. Captain Lorca valued his input. Though he suspected he would never feel the same warmth toward Lorca as he had toward Philippa Georgiou, the Kelpien liked and respected his captain.  

Something was amiss today, though. He could feel it in his ganglia. The captain had ordered an abrupt course change and retired to his ready room without explanation. Thoughtfully, Saru ordered the long-range sensors to scan the projected path in front of them, but for what he did not know, then sat back and waited.

 

“Commander?”

Saru looked down at the conn officer. “Yes?”

“Sir, long range sensors are picking up a ship ahead of us. We will intercept it if we continue on this course,” Detmer frowned.

 _Indeed._ “Have you any more information.”

“It’s one of ours, Starfleet transport shuttle. Course suggests it is heading to the mining colony on Tellinar.”

 _Are we meeting this vessel? If so, why was I not informed?_ _But Tellinar?_ “Have we any other information about the shuttle?”

“No, sir.”

Steady on, Lieutenant,” he said calmly. “Maintain present course and speed.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Commander Saru?”   He swung the chair around, tilting his head expectantly, as Lt Rhys stared frowning at the scanner monitor.   “Sir, the sensors are giving us some anomalous readings on that shuttle. The structure appears to be…sir, it has a bug infestation...species GS 54.”

Lightning bugs. Saru felt a tingle of alarm himself and at the conn, Lt. Owosekun shuddered. Saru leaned forward. “Lt. Detmer, increase speed to intercept. They may need a hand. Shields at twenty percent; we don’t want any of them ourselves.”

Behind him the ready room doors snapped open. “Status, Mr. Saru?” Lorca’s voice was unruffled.

Saru stood, moving away from the captain’s chair and back to his own station.   “Sir, we are in process of intercepting a transport shuttle with an infestation of species GS 54.”

“Sir, the shuttle is overwhelmed…and the pilot’s tether has come loose!” Rhys said urgently.

“Get a tractor beam on that shuttle and decontaminate it. Transport, can you get a lock on that pilot?”

“Aye sir.”

“Bring it on board as soon as it’s clean, or isolate it if you can’t.   Commander Landry, send a security team to the shuttle bay and go meet our new guests.”

Landry raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Saru.

“Captain,” the First Officer said carefully, “exactly who is on this shuttle?”

Lorca smiled faintly to himself, turning to look up at his Chief of Security and XO. “Michael Burnham.”

 

Saru strode the corridors, his booted feet making a heavy cadence on the metal floor. Back home, on Kelpia, such noise might have been fatal.   Here, he was merely going to face a problem of another kind.

He’d been at breakfast when the summons came to escort Burnham from her quarters to Engineering. He had, of course, left immediately but carried a bowl of blueberries with him.   Escort duties were beneath his status, but he rather suspected the captain was allowing him a few minutes to speak with their new guest alone, to handle any personal issues during that time.   Lorca was not a man who tolerated disputes.

The escort may have been as much for her own protection, he mused. Other than the one brief, unsettling look when she’d been brought to the bridge, he’d not seen his former shipmate since her arrival. Keyla Detmer had returned to the bridge the day before, white-faced and somewhat shaken after having encountered Burnham in the mess hall, her shock turning to anger, he’d overheard her confess to Joann Owosekun. The lieutenant had been badly injured during the Battle of the Binary Stars, requiring ocular and cranial implants to regain her sight and function.   Detmer had been offered a medical discharge and refused, something Saru admired.

And now as he approached Burnham’s cabin doors, Saru too could feel only a cold anger.

 

Somehow she was smaller than he remembered, a deceptively slight, dark-skinned Human with a now haunted expression. Had there been just the slightest hint of relief in her eyes at the sight of him? She’d blinked, a line appearing between her brows, and lowered her head respectfully.   “Saru.”

“First Officer Saru,” he corrected gravely. Now it was his turn to be the superior officer. He stepped aside, motioning Burnham to come into the corridor.   “With me…please.”

She followed, and hey walked in silence for some seconds. “You’re famous,” he said, giving a steely look at the passing, gawking crew. “They all want a peek.”

“Congratulations on your promotion,” Michael said quietly.

He simply nodded. “Thank you.   The powers that be were impressed by my actions at the Battle of the Binary Stars. But,” he shook his head, “upon my own reflection of that day, my only wish is that I could have done more.”

“I understand,” she sighed, glancing at him then staring impassively ahead.

He glanced down at her tight expression. “Blueberries?” He offered the glass bowl, and surprised, she took a handful, chewing slowly.

“The ones in prison don’t taste the same.”

“I suppose that is a function of the environment you’re eating them in, instead of a food synthesizer issue.”

 _Was he making a joke?_ “I suppose so.”

“So many people with so many places to go,” she observed, watching the crew striding quickly down the corridors.

“On _Discovery_ , our facilities can accommodate 300 discreet scientific missions, a Starfleet record.”

“So this is a science vessel?” she asked, surprised, as they paused outside a sealed set of doors.

“Ah…” Saru paused, avoiding the question. He turned to face her, and indicated the doors. “You’ve been assigned to engineering. Lt. Stamets will task you with specific duties.” He nodded formally and stepped aside, preparing to return to his station, when she spoke again.

“Saru…” she hesitated. “First…Officer Saru. I saw a recording of the speech you gave at the Captain’s funeral. It was beautiful. I never thought I’d get a chance to say this to you. I think about what happened every day. All the time. I owe you. I’m trying to say…” she struggled for the words and he took pity on the unhappiness in her eyes.

“I’m sorry?”

“Yes.”

“I believe you feel regret, but” he sighed “…in my mind, you are dangerous.   C Lorca is a man who does not fear the things normal people fear. But I do.   And you are someone to fear, Michael Burnham.”

“I just want to get back on that shuttle, Commander.   I won’t make any trouble for you here.”

He bit back a flash of anger. “Well that is certain. But if you try, know that I intend to do a better job protecting my captain than you did yours.” She flinched, and Saru indicated the engineering doors, and walked away.

 

“She’s accessed the spore bay,” Saru said sourly. “Just as you predicted.”

Lorca nodded. “Creative.”   They were standing in the ready room, watching Michael Burnham on the ship’s internal monitors. He’d received Lt. Stamets’ report on Burnham’s tasking and results from the day, and sent it to his XO, along with a request to meet him later that night.

“I’ll re-enable the secondary security protocols after she leaves,” the First Officer continued, folding his arms.

“Lt. Stamets won’t appreciate that,” Lorca chuckled.

“He will simply have to accept it.”

Saru glanced disapprovingly at the monitor again. He’d voiced his objections only once, and Lorca had given him that icy blue stare.

“Georgiou wrote highly of you both, in her logs. It’s not the way I would have preferred to add either of you to my crew, Commander, but I will not pass up this opportunity. Any further comments?”

“No, sir.”

 

“Incoming message for the Captain,” announced Lt. Richter. “Classified and highest priority.”

“Patch it back to his ready room,” Saru ordered. Only two hours into the shift and already a high-priority message from Starfleet. He felt a tingle as the base of his skull. _Not good_. A few minutes later the ready room doors parted and Lorca, looking as grim as the First Officer had ever seen him, emerged.

“Lt. Airiam, you have the conn. Number One, you’re with me.”

He followed the captain in to the turbolift, where Lorca turned to him the moment the doors sealed. “The _Glenn_ went down with all hands a few hours back, following a failed jump.   Command wants us to get in there and retrieve all of the spore drive equipment, computers, and the like. The _Glenn_ was near the Klingon border.   I’m sure I don’t have to say anything more.”

“No, sir.”

He followed the captain toward Engineering. “Sir, if I may…I would highly recommend Michael Burnham be included on the away team.”

Lorca raised both eyebrows and made a continue gesture. Saru felt carefully for words. “She was…is…a highly-trained officer, adept at tactical situations, intelligent and due to her Vulcan training, calm and logical in emergencies.   We do not know what we will be facing over on the _Glenn_ , and I am certain she could be useful.”

Lorca nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They emerged from the lift and headed to engineering. The duty crew spun around, surprised at the sight of their command staff standing on the entry bridge. Lorca swept them with his stern gaze, certain he had their attention, and as was his way, launched into an explanation with no preliminaries.

“During the last hour, while performing Black Alert maneuvers, there was an…incident...on our sister ship, the USS _Glenn_.” He looked directly at Lt. Stamets. “The entire crew was lost.”

Tilly and Burnham exchanged startled glanced, and Paul Stamets glanced at Commander Saru, who looked at the ground in sympathy. “What happened? Was it a…bloom failure?” He struggled to find words, his voice shaking.

“Sending a boarding party to find out. Lt. Stamets, you will accompany Commander Landry and ensure that _everything_ related to the project returns to this ship.”

“Why not just transport what we need from the _Glenn_ over to us?” he asked, frowning.

“The room holding the equipment is shielded,” Saru explained.

“Shielded? That’s curious,” Stamets said slowly. Tilly shot a shot at their own equipment, and Burnham frowned.

“Indeed,” Saru replied.

“Let’s not indulge that curiosity,” Lorca said, cutting him off. “It went down by Klingon territory. Let’s get in and get out.”

“Really? We’re running drills near Klingon space?” Stamets snapped.

“ _We are at war_ , Lieutenant.   I’d appreciate a day going by without me having to _remind_ you of that!” Lorca snapped.

Stamets struggled to control his temper. “Well Captain, I will need to take a team with me, you know, for the cumbersome, annoying science part?”

“Take a team; do it quickly.” He glanced at Saru and made a decision. “Take Burnham with you.” Lorca headed back out the door, and behind him, Stamets nearly began stuttering in his objections.

“Sir! It’s one thing to make her a data cruncher in the lab! But to integrate her into this project at such a deep level?”

Captain Lorca took a deep breath, turned around and said flatly. “I understand that you lost a friend today.   This…is _not_ a democracy. _You understand?”_

“Yes _sir_.”

Lorca shot him a glance and turned to Saru. “Number One, you sailed with Burnham on the Shezhou. What is your assessment of her abilities?”

Saru turned, locking eyes with Burnham, and dipped his head slightly.   He took a deep breath. “Her mutiny aside, she is…the smartest Star Fleet officer I have ever known.”

Lorca smirked, looked down at Stamets, and cocked his head. “And he knows you.”

 

Hours later, Saru stood on the bridge, supervising the evening shift, one hand on the back of the captain’s chair. Behind him the turbolift doors snapped open and he turned. Michael Burnham stood here, dressed again in her ochre-yellow prison jumpsuit. She looked around the bridge, resignation and longing in her eyes. “Permission to enter the bridge, Commander Saru? The captain requested my presence.”

The tall Kelpien nodded. “Permission granted. Commander Airiam, you have the conn.” She nodded.

He moved toward Burnham and lowered his voice. “The other prisoners are being transferred to the shuttle now.   It’s scheduled to leave within the hour.”

She nodded. I’ll be on it, sir.”

They walked slowly toward the ready room, Saru’s voice pitched only for her ears.   “It has not gone unnoticed that during your time on this ship you conducted yourself in a respectable manner.   And from what I understand, you were invaluable to the boarding party, which I was pleased to hear, since I was the one who recommended your involvement.”

She felt the faint prickle of tears. “I appreciate your faith in me.”

Saru made an abrupt gesture, cut off. “Oh, you were always a good officer…until you weren’t. If…only you hadn’t…” He took a deep breath, a formal goodbye.

“You are a valuable asset. It is lost for Star Fleet,” he said sadly.

“Thank you.” She gave one last glance around the room, at his retreating, tall figure, and entered the ready room.

 

Saru sat alone in the officer’s mess hall later that evening, adding salt to his brewing herbal tea. The away team mission had been successful, retrieving valuable equipment and the group was now busily extracting information from the corrupted logs. He had overseen the arrangements for the destruction of the _Glenn_ earlier, not an assignment to be proud of, but he understood the necessity. The sister ship drifted to their port, awaiting her final honors. It had been a long day.

Through the lounge windows he watched as the shuttle prison transport crept around the side of the ship on thrusters, clearing the hull and moving slightly away before engaging its warp drive. “Shuttle for prison colony, cleared for warp,” announced the all-call, and a strong prickling crept down his neck, his threat ganglia emerging, flickering in the quiet of the lounge. The shuttle turned, its engines glowing blue, and disappeared. Saru smoothed his ganglia, unsettled. What had changed?

 

I hope you liked it!   Please give me some feedback on this chapter. Chp 2 / Episode 4 will be up soon.


	2. Twenty Four Hours

**Episode 4 _The Butcher’s Knife Cares Not For The Lamb’s Cry_**

**Original Series Episode written by Jesse Alexander and Aron Eli Coleite**

 

Chapter 2—Twenty-Four Hours

Original characters, scenes, and background by Riene

 

 

 

He’d spent a fairly restless night, despite the comfort of his quarters.   The tingling at the base of his brain prevented him from dropping off, and finally Saru had risen, scanning the ship, the surrounding space, and even running a quick physical exam upon himself to find the source of his unease.

Nothing showed up.

Nothing until the next morning.

Battle drills were scheduled first thing during Alpha shift, and the Captain had told him to come in an hour later than normal after he’d run the first simulations. Saru had dressed and eaten, but the tingling in his threat ganglia stubbornly refused to cease. The Kelpien First Officer was on the verge of reporting to sickbay when the cause of his anxiety was revealed.

“Michael Burnham to the bridge,” came Lt. Richter’s calm voice over the all-call, and a moment later, the turbolift doors snapped open.

Her dark eyes widened only slightly before she lifted her chin and stepped into the lift beside him. Stunned, Saru turned facing her, his ganglia now fully extended and quivering. No longer dressed in the ochre-colored prison jumpsuit, she now wore the blue-and-silver of Star Fleet sciences, but without insignia. Burnham glanced up at him then faced the doors.

“Bridge…direct.”

Saru took a deep breath. “As First Officer, I take pride in knowing every name and assignment on the crew manifest. You _were_ to be on the prison transport shuttle that left _yesterday_.”

Burnham turned to him. “Captain Lorca offered me an opportunity. I can tell by your threat ganglia that you were not consulted.”

He rubbed the now painfully quivering tendrils and looked away, crossing one arm across defensively his body. “The captain keeps his own counsel,” he said stiffly. “Had he inquired, I’d have suggested the duty roster lacking any opening for a mutineer.”

She flinched. “A valuable asset. That’s what you called me.”

Saru flicked his fingers dismissively. “I was speaking hypothetically, politely…and as someone who was certain I would never see you again.”

“You can tell your threat ganglia to relax,” she said bitterly.   “I’m only here to help.”

“My ganglia remain unconvinced.”

Saru tugged his uniform jacket straight as the turbolift doors snapped open and they stepped onto the bridge, lit red with the battle simulation, alerts shrieking in the background under the gabble of orders and responses.   Two Klingon Bird-of-Prey ships swooped about the screen. Landry took one out as Detmer pivoted the starship on its axis, but the second fired a volley of photon torpedoes. The main view screen lit up with a green flash and roar of sound. The captain turned, his sharp gaze sweeping the bridge as the simulation ended.

“We’re all dead.” Lorca began clapping sarcastically. The bridge crew averted their eyes, clearly embarrassed and unhappy with the captain’s displeasure and their own performances. “Very nice. Very _polite_.” The viewscreen cleared, showing normal space beyond.

He faced them, speaking slowly and calmly, as if lecturing a class of first year cadets. “The _Discovery_ is now the only Star Fleet ship with a displacement activated spore hub drive. Which means, when it’s up and running, we will be able to materialize anywhere in the known universe…behind enemy lines…above the Klingon homeworld.   Anywhere. But we will be alone; we will not have back up. There’s just _us_. We get just _one_ chance to get it right.”

“We’ll do better next time, sir,” Landry said firmly.

“It will be hard to do worse.” Lorca said, his voice laden with dry sarcasm, and she flushed.

He turned to the newcomers, striding across the bridge. “Mr. Saru, run the simulation again. And again. Burnham—with me.”

Saru stepped forward, looking over the bridge crew. “You heard the captain. Computer—reload the simulation.” He sat down in the captain’s chair.

 

He paused with his tray, momentarily scanning the room for an empty table. Despite being the First Officer of the _Discovery_ , Saru felt himself to be apart from the crew the vast majority of the time.

And as the only Kelpien in the Fleet, he was probably correct.

The morning of simulated attacks, ambushes, and battle drills had left the bridge crew irritable, exhausted, but improving in speed, creativity, and response.   As the officer in charge, he’d felt their animosity and tried not to take it personally. He’d experienced the same as a junior lieutenant. When he felt the tension becoming unproductive, he’d given them a break and begun dismissing the officers in teams for a meal, leaving himself for last, once Captain Lorca returned to the bridge.

This was not his usual time for a meal, and the officers’ mess was unusually crowded. Saru took two more steps forward, moving away from the replicators and the line. With his rank and status, he could, of course, sit anywhere in the room, but a deeply-ingrained sense of biological inferiority and bitter personal experience forced him to shy away from any such forward behavior.

He looked so hesitant, standing there, so she caught his eye and smiled warmly, tilting her head toward the empty seat beside her. The reserved XO of the ship inclined his head in acknowledgement and slowly made his way across the room and toward her. Rian scooted over, giving him space, unsure if he would be comfortable sitting next to her, and clearing room on the table. She gave him another welcoming glance as he lowered the tray and folded his awkwardly long body into the seat.

“Thank you,” Saru said after a minute, feeling something was required.   The young woman, a lieutenant in the sciences department, met his eyes. She had a reassuring smile, and for a moment he bristled, wondering if she were condescending to him, but she simply nodded.

“Commander. It’s hard to find a seat in here today; it’s really crowded.” He tilted his head back at her in agreement and applied himself to his meal.

When next he glanced up, the woman had picked up a Padd with one hand and was reading, her eyes flashing across the scene, and eating with the other hand. He laid his own Padd on the tabletop, angling it to be unseen, and began scanning personnel records. Yes, he thought he’d recognized her. Lieutenant Rian Thomas joined the crew at their last station, a xenobotanist with interests in biochemistry and cultures. She had published several pieces of well-received research on herbal medicines with her research partner, a Vulcan named T’Prin. A few minutes later the younger officer finished her soup and sandwich, and stood, clearing her table.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she said, and flashing him one more smile, deposited her tray back in slot.

“Good afternoon,” he echoed, watching her go.

 

Over the next few weeks he encountered her quite often; apparently their shifts overlapped. She was frequently alone, usually reading, and they fell into the habit of eating together. Saru found himself looking for her during the day went he was about the ship, but never saw her.   Though her quarters were not far from his, the botany labs and arboretum were, and it was there he presumed she would be.

One evening he stopped by the mess hall for dinner and found the Lieutenant curled up in one of the sofa nooks with a mug of tea, reading. She did not see him approach until he was standing over her, and Rian looked up, startled, as his shadow fell across her screen.

“May I join you?” he asked formally, and she flushed, sitting up straight.

“Of course! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you, my book…” she indicated the Padd apologetically.

Saru seated himself, pulling his tray near. “I am not offended,” he informed her. “Merely curious. I see you reading quite often. What is it that you find so interesting?”

She shrugged with a smile. “Everything. I’m usually reading one of the journals, but I like to read the classics and poetry as well. It’s relaxing.”

He took a bite. “I myself do not read much,” Saru said thoughtfully. “My people did not create much literature. Perhaps that is why.” He took another bite.

He really did have fascinating eyes, she thought. Bright turquoise with golden flecks, they were intense and direct. “If I may ask, Commander, what do you do in your spare time fore relaxation?”

Saru considered the question. “I listen to music. And play strategy games against the computer.” He speared another bit of salad.

Rian looked interested. “What kind of strategy games? I play Thello and chess. If you do those and ever want to play a live partner, let me know.”

He tilted his head, considering. “I believe I will do so. Thank you.”

 

“Mr. Saru, report to Engineering.”

The all-call pulled him from his lunch break. Lorca met him in the corridor outside Engineering. Command wants us to make a big jump, to Corvan II.   They’re under attack.”

“The mining colony?”

“Yes. Let’s see of Lt. Stamets is capable of delivering.” He tossed Saru a small Padd with the distress signal recording as they swung into Engineering.

“There’s no way in Hell we’ll be ready to jump that far,” Stamets said two minutes later, outraged.

“You told me you knew why the _Glenn_ failed,” snapped the captain.

Stamets grimaced. “The _Glenn_ crashed into an undetectable Hawking radiation firewall when it exited from the mycelial plane. As a result, all the biologicals on board ‘spun out.’”

“You can prevent that from happening again, right?”   Saru looked from one officer to the other, reading the reports from the colony.

“Yes.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Captain.” Stamets reached for patience. “As I’ve explained to you; every time we try a long jump we lose navigational stability.”   Lorca folded his arms.   “Remember? Jumping is probabilistic? The longer the jump, the more possible outcomes?” His temper was slipping.

“I get it. It’s trial and error. Let’s try something.”

“We lack the processing power to make the requisite number of calculations to hold a course.”

“So what were they doing that we’re not?”

Stamets gritted his teeth, walking past them to point at a screen attached to a clumpy black device with coils of translucent white cabling emerging from one side.   “We took this tech from Straal’s lab on the _Glenn_. It was an augmentation to their navigation system.   I’ve incorporated it into our drive unit, but it won’t load completely.” He tapped various keys and a 3D interstellar map appeared. “To function optimally, it would appear to require some sort of supercomputer.

Lorca glared. “You must have missed that on the _Glenn_.”

“Sir. Being chased by a lethal monster in a deathtrap surrounded by Klingon bodies _is_ distracting, but…no, I would have noticed an extra supercomputer,” he said sarcastically.   “That’s just me.”

Saru smiled faintly made a clicking noise of agreement as Lorca gestured at the spore chamber. “What’s that thing?”

“That thing is what we took off the _Glenn_. It interacts with the spore drive somehow, but I think it’s missing a part or something. I can’t get it to activate.” He glared at the small unit with its dual attachments.

Sensing the captain’s growing aggravation, Saru stepped forward, clearing his throat and interjecting. “In exactly five hours, forty-nine minutes and forty-six seconds, the Klingons _will_ take Corvan II.”

“Captain. This can’t be rushed.”

Lorca stood inches from the engineer, his voice icy. “Now you listen to me, Mr. Stamets, they need us—now.”

“There are some things I could try to extend the jump range,” Stamets said.

“Get it done.” Lorca turned and headed for the doors.

“You’re welcome,” the lieutenant said to his retreating back.

Three hours later the alpha shift assembled in preparation for the Corvan II jump. “Captain, be advised that the spore drive is online and primed,” came Stamets’ voice over the ‘comm.

“Primed?” Lorca glared at the screen.   “Can you control where we’re going or not?”

“It’s possible. Maybe even likely, but done.”

Lorca gave him a sharp nod. He looked at Lt. Richter. “Open ship-wide communications.”

“Yes, captain!”

He stalked across the bridge. “Attention all personnel! Stealth protocol! Run silent, Black Alert!”

“Black Alert,” the computer announced.

“All crew to battle stations. We need to be ready for whatever’s on the other side of that jump!” Lorca’s voice echoed throughout the vessel. Around the ship heavy security doors began shuttering over viewports and sensitive equipment.

Saru nodded as his readouts indicated ship-wide readiness.   “Disengage shields,” he ordered Lt. Owosekun.

“Shields are offline; standing by,” she replied, hands flying over the console.

“Loading spores into the drive,” came Stamet’s voice.

Commander Airiam swiveled in her seat. “Drive?” asked Lorca, looking her way.

“Excess energy cavitation initiated,” she said calmly. A heavy vibration rumbled through the ship as the inner and outer disc rings began to rotate opposite each other.

Saru looked at Landry. “Tactical.   Reroute all available power from impulse over to phasers.”

Landry nodded. “Weapons are double hot.”

“Engineering?” Saru asked the ‘comm.

“Spore drive is online,” Stamets replied. “Plot destination for Corvan II.”

On the bridge all sensors indicated readiness. Saru nodded, spreading his hands. “At your pleasure, Captain.”

The bridge crew exchanged glances, and Lorca nodded, taking a deep breath.   “Go.”

Keyla Detmer looked down and pressed the spore drive control. There was the usual disorienting sensation of falling, then the ship popped back into standard space, shaking. A blinding light and heat flooded the bridge. All around people reeled back from the sudden glare.

“Sensors indicate an external temperature of…they’re offline; it’s too hot!” Saru reported, struggling to keep the sensitive devices from overloading.

“That is _not_ Corvan II!” Lorca raised his voice over the sounding alarms, averting his face from the glare.

“No sir it is not!” Saru replied.

“We’re stuck in the gravity well of an O-type star; collision is imminent.”   Detmer’s voice was calm as she frantically engaged various thrusters.

“Collision is _not_ an option,” Lorca snapped.   The seething, roiling mass of golden-orange star filled the screen, tendrils of solar flares surrounding them.   “Shields up! Full reverse!”

As the crew complied he glared at the intercom. “Wrong off ramp, Lieutenant Stamets!”

“My nav buffer overloaded; I couldn’t hold the plotting!” he shouted back as the ship bucked and strained, sending people stumbling and smashing him face-forward into the console. There was an agonizing crack of pain across the bridge of his nose, leaving the engineer temporarily blinded. “Ahhh!”

“Rear thrusters engaging!” Keyla Detmer struggled with the controls as the ship shuddered and balked, engines protesting.

“We are…clear of the gravitational well,” Saru announced a few seconds later.

“Re-engage the warp drive; get us the Hell out of Dodge, Mr. Saru.”

“Aye aye Captain!”

The great ship pulled away from the star, light and sounds returning to normal.   “Mr. Saru, you have the conn.   I’ll be having a chat with our Chief Engineer.” The captain strode angrily into the lift.

“Yes sir.” Saru responded, remaining at his station, compiling damage reports and prioritizing resource allocation. He caught the helmsman’s eyes. “Well done, lieutenants,” he said with a nod.

At their stations, Detmer and Owosekun exchanged a brief smile.

 

An hour later Captain Lorca returned to the bridge in a hard mood, his cold gaze sweeping the bridge. He’d informed the crew of Commander Landry’s death, and a pall had fallen across the darkened room. The crew had worked in silence until the ‘comm unit on Saru’s console chirped.

“Saru here.”

“Commander Saru, this is…Michael Burnham. Could you come assist me with a project? It shouldn’t take long.”

Saru looked questioningly at the captain, who nodded. “Go on. Shift’s over in a few minutes anyway.” He logged out and headed for the turbolift.

The door to the captain’s project lab chimed and Burnham turned to face the entrance. “Door.”

Saru entered but remained standing by the doors. “I received your…message.” He looked around warily. “What is it you so urgently need _my_ help with?”

Burnham backed up slowly toward the darkened containment cage, and he followed.   “I’ve been thinking about the way I treated you on the _Shenzhou_ ,” she said. “At times, I was very unfair.” She stopped in front of the cage and glanced up at him.

Saru walked around her, pacing and suspicious. “You often undermined me, dismissed my opinions out of hand.”

She glanced at the Padd and back at him. “You wouldn’t be wrong to call me out for being selfish.”

Saru’s eyes flickered around the lab. Something was wrong. This behavior was out of character for her and she was watching him too intently.

“…but I can’t help notice that your threat ganglia are quiet now.” Her eyes were focused on his head. From within the containment cage the tardigrade growled, restless, and Saru’s hand went to the base of his skull automatically.   “Fascinating,” Burnham said, staring into the cage.

The knowledge of her ruse washed over him, and his hand dropped. “You’re trying to gauge my response to that thing in the pen, aren’t you,” he said bitterly.

Burnham turned to him. “Commander Landry was about to attack the creature. And I believe her death was an act of self-defense on its part. And now, based on your lack of threat-response, I’m ready to submit that the creature’s primary drive is not aggressive.   It’s not a predator.”

The Kelpien shook his head, tired and angry, shutting his eyes. “You have not changed an iota, Burnham. Your contrite words were insincere.”

“They were necessary!”

He stared at her, aggrieved. “I was wrong to question your place on the crew. You will fit in perfectly with Captain Lorca.” And without a backwards glance, he departed.

 

“Hi.” He looked up, stony and steeling himself for more humiliation, but it was Lt. Thomas, looking down at him with a faint line between her eyes, and an expression he interpreted as worried.   “You’ve been sitting here for a long time, just staring out the port.”

Saru blinked, feeling the tension in his shoulders and the dull pounding of an incipient headache. “My apologies. Did you want the seat?”

Her lips twitched slightly. “No,” she said, sliding into the chair beside him. “I was worried about you.” She hesitated. “Are you alright?”

There was no deceit in her eyes, just concern. He shut his eyes again briefly. “I am fine.”

She was silent, then rose, walking away. _Ah, good. You’ve managed to annoy her._ But the lieutenant was back a minute later, bearing two cups of tea, the usual dark brown in one, and his favorite in the other. She set the cup before him. “Drink this.”

He reached out, wrapping his heavy clawed digits around the fragile glass.   The steaming liquid warmed his cold hands. “Thank you.”

He looked exhausted, but there was no way she could ask. The last two days had to have been stressful on the First Officer. The story of the failed jump and the Security Chief’s death had filtered down amongst the crew, and she wondered if Commander Landry had been a friend.

“I’m sorry,” Rian said quietly. “I won’t bother you…but I’m here, if you ever need someone to just…sit with.”

“That is…kind of you,” Saru said after a moment.

She smiled. “Not really. I enjoy your company.”

He was too tired to analyze her words for hidden meanings. In silence they sat until the cups were empty, then he rose, gathering the mugs and returning them to the disposal hatch.

Rian had risen as well. He nodded at her. “Goodnight, Lieutenant.   And...thank you.”

She returned his nod, and to his surprise, reached out and covered his hand with her own in a quick squeeze. “Goodnight, Commander.”

 

But it was not to be. Minutes after he left the forward lounge, heading toward his quarters, Lt. Ritcher was paging him to the bridge. Emerging from the lift he found the Alpha shift assembled and Captain Lorca pacing about and rubbing his hands, an unconscious gesture signifying his energy and desire for action.

“Mr. Saru, Lt. Stamets and Michael Burnham tell us they have solved the problem of the navigational plotting and that we are ready to jump to Corvan II.”

“That is indeed welcome news,” Saru said briskly, assuming his position, bringing up all of the status indicators and routing command sequences back to his station.

Below in Engineering, Paul Stamets keyed the intercom. “Course is set for Corvan II. We’re ready to jump, Captain.”

Lorca glanced around the bridge. “Is anybody not ready?” At the helm, Joann Owosekun and Keyla Detmer exchanged raised eyebrows as each blew a small nervous puff of air. Behind him, Rhys and Ritcher shot each other looks and firmly turned back to their respective consoles. Saru nodded. “Go.”

Keyla Detmer pressed the switch.

 

_Discovery_ emerged from the jump over the main colony.   Destruction rained on the buildings and units below, from the brace of Klingon ships strafing the defenseless structures. Saru’s hands flew across the console, sending telemetry data to the tactical officer, who promptly opened fire.  

“Targets one and two destroyed,” he announced. Lorca nodded.

“Full stop!”

Saru snapped up. “Captain?”

“Initiating full stop, Captain,” Detmer calmly replied, spinning down the hull.  

“The map shows the Klingon vessels converging,” Owosekun announced, tracking the paths on her screen.

“Diverting all nonessential power to shields,” Saru said.

“The birds are at 1000 kilometers and closing,” Detmer’s mismatched eyes were intent on her console.

“Phasers are locked, Captain,” Owosekun added.

“Hold tight everybody,” Lorca ordered. The first volley of Klingon disruptors struck the ship and it shuddered.   “Steady.”

Alarms were flickering all over his console. “Shields are holding at eighty percent,” called Saru. “Seventy five…fifty five…”

“Engineering?” Lorca called tightly.

“Spore drive is primed, Captain,” responded Stamets.

Lorca leaned forward, his damaged eyes tracking the swooping ships.   Another disruptor blast rocked the _Discovery._ “On my orders…”

Owosekun’s eyes never left the screen. “Birds of Prey closing in at five hundred kilometers.”

A third salvo struck them. “Shields at thirty percent!” Saru warned.

They were struck from above and below, almost simultaneously. “Twenty percent!” The red lines dropped again. “Captain!”

Lorca grimly watched, counting the seconds, as the Klingon ships swept in for the kill, raising his hands, tracking the ships with his fingers.

“Lieutenant Stamets advises that the ship is ready to jump!” Airiam reported as another series of explosions shook _Discovery._

“I need them closer…wait… Let’s send our Klingon friends a message they won’t forget!” He paused. “And go!”

Detmer engaged the spore drive, and _Discovery_ made the jump to safety.

Below on the planet’s atmosphere, the three Birds of Prey fired on what had been a Federation starship, flying into each other’s disruptor bolts, and into each other, exploding like a miniature nova, raining debris on the surface.

 

_Discovery_ appeared in normal space, the outer hull spinning down slowly.   Around the bridge, crew members reacted to the sudden silence and victory—Saru patted his body, as if surprised they’d survived, Keyla Detmer broke her usual impassive mien to laugh in relief, her silky red hair swinging over one shoulder. Joann Owosekun smiled at her friends, and Lts Rhys and Richter turned around in their seats, surprised and smiling. Commander Airiam nodded once, unruffled but pleased.

Even Captain Lorca smiled and nodded at his crew, as his shoulders relaxed.   “Lt. Detmer, resume our previous course and heading.”

She smiled. “Aye, sir.”

 

Released from duty, Commander Saru emerged from the turbolift, heading for the forward lounge. It was later than usual for lunch, with the corridors relatively uncrowded. He would be able to have a meal in peace.

Ahead of him was a familiar figure in a blue and silver uniform; tall, slim, her dark red hair braided back neatly, carrying a Padd. It took little effort to fall into step beside her as both entered the mess hall.

Rian Thomas looked up at him searchingly, then smiled. “You’re looking much happier this evening, Commander Saru.”

He angled his head and nodded. “I am.   And I am just now free to have an evening meal.” Her grey-green eyes sparkled up at him, and he took a risk. “Lieutenant, would you care to have dinner with me?”

 

Thank you for reading, and please leave a review. :)


	3. The Pressure of Command

**Episode 5—** **Choose Your Pain**

Original Series Episode by Gretchen J. Berg, Aaron Harberts, and Kemp Powers

Chapter 3—The Pressure of Command

Original characters, scenes, and background by Riene

_Discovery_ settled gracefully into a standard planetary orbit around the M-class planet fourth out from a young G2V class star, next on the exploration list. Commander Saru began coordinating the usual surveying and mapping tasks, with everyone hoping for a chance at some badly-needed shore leave after their last three busy weeks. Teams of geologists and biologists had beamed down for more detailed research, once the initial reports deemed the planet safe, and finding no advanced life forms. Once he'd correlated these reports, Saru planned to begin a rotation of shore leave, and intended to remind the captain that he too needed some relaxation.

But it was not to be. Barely a day after the first survey teams were dispatched, a call came through from Fleet HQ politely demanding the captain's presence at a briefing. Lorca received the news sourly.

"We just got here, Katrina."

Admiral Katrina Cornwell dragged a hand through her shoulder-length brown hair. "And I'm truly sorry about that, Gabriel, but you're needed at this briefing. Hell, you're the subject of the briefing."

Gabriel Lorca folded his arms. "And my people need some down time."

The Admiral winced. "Exactly. But there's no need for them to tag along. We'll send a transport."

"Kat, look…"

"That's an order, Captain."

* * *

Barely two hours later a transport shuttle popped out of warp and requested permission to enter the shuttle bay. On duty on the bridge Saru granted it permission and notified the captain. The ready room doors snapped open and Lorca emerged. He glanced at the main screen, grimaced and pulled his jacket straight.

"I'll see you all in a few days. Infernal meetings; don't know why we can't handle it with a holo-relay."

Saru dipped his head sympathetically. "We'll be here, captain."

Lorca glanced up at him. "You're acting captain until I return. Keep her safe for me. I don't want to see even a scratch on the paint job, ok?"

"Sir?" The Kelpien looked confused.

"Never mind, Mr. Saru. You've got the conn."

"Aye sir." The turbolift doors shut behind him.

* * *

In the darkness of the cabin, a pair of turquoise eyes snapped open, looking warily around. Heart pounding he shut them again, taking a deep breath. _Starship. Not home_. As usual, it was merely morning, his acute hearing picking up the increased sounds of activity in the outside corridor as the crew changed shifts.

He silenced the alarm before it could play, trying to remember if he'd ever been able to sleep long enough for it to awaken him. Saru rolled out of bed, crouching on the floor, stretching muscles gone lax from sleep. "Computer," he ordered the replicator, "water with h'chta." Seconds later, a flask appeared in the slot, cold and clear, flavored with a sprig of herbs from his home planet. He downed it in two gulps, the cool room temperature and icy draught clearing his mind and shocking his body into alertness. Standing, the Kelpien First Officer removed the standard-issue black sleepwear and tossed it in the recycling bin, then began his morning callisthenic routine.

He emerged from the sonic shower and ordered breakfast as he dressed, a privilege reserved for senior officers. A tray appeared bearing a chewy hot grains dish, fruit, the usual dietary supplement, and coffee. Black, bitter coffee had been one of the more pleasant surprises at the Academy, as the beverage had the same effect on Kelpien metabolisms as it did Human.

Carrying the tray with him to his desk, Saru pulled up the overnight queue of messages, finding the usual Fleet notifications, shift reports, and articles from subscription services. Near the bottom, one message glowed blue—personal, from Lt. Thomas. The XO took another sip of coffee and opened it.

_Good morning, Commander. I noticed that we're on the same leave shift for the planet. If you've no other plans I'd enjoy the company. If you do, well, maybe next time!—Rian_

Pleased, he thumbed the device. _I too would enjoy the company. Will I see you at the lunch shift?—Saru_

He finished dressing, putting off the boots as long as possible, and returned his tray to the slot. Behind him the terminal pinged. "Open message."

"Yes, I will meet you in the forward mess. Looking forward to it.—Rian"

Even the boots seemed more bearable as he headed toward the bridge.

* * *

The planet was as pleasant as reports had indicated, a rocky landscape supporting plant life, small multi-legged animals, and a faintly violet-tinged atmosphere. There was no sapient life, but studies of the sea life were promising, and the biologists were already chattering about putting this planet on the protected list.

They had transported to one of the chosen landing spots and begun walking, finding a clearing filled with long rippling grasses in variegated shades of green, orange, and tan. Small pollinators flitted above the gently waving leaves. For a brief moment, Saru considered taking off his boots to feel the surface under his feet, but rapidly decided against it. The landscape reminded him a great deal of Kelpia, and he felt the urge to stretch his long-cramped muscles with a fierce run.

Rian walked beside him, quiet, her face turned up to the yellow sun, listening to the drone of the pollinators. Though she'd been part of two prior expeditions, she carried a standard survey pack. "You never know," she'd said apologetically and shrugged.

The glade ended abruptly, transitioning into a copse of tall, bamboo-like stalks with spreading, interlocking canopies that the survey teams had dubbed 'trees' in typical Human fashion, though studies indicated they were more likely another variant of the woody grasses. Rian stopped before a tall specimen, eying its ropy bark and thick spreading branches.

"That's a perfect climbing tree," she said wistfully, and he blinked at her.

"Climbing tree?"

She smiled, remembering. "When I was a kid, back in Colorado, we'd always look for the best trees to climb. It was a contest between me and my friends or relatives, who could climb to the top. I was always pretty good at it."

He eyed her doubtfully and she laughed. "Hey, just because we're bipedal now doesn't mean we Humans can't climb. Look!" Rian dropped her pack on the ground and unzipped her jacket, leaving it beside the pack. Amused, he folded his arms and watched as she walked around the base of the tree, selected a branch and jumped, grasping it with her hands and walking her feet up the trunk. A minute later she was sitting on the branch, breathing hard but grinning. "Like that."

Saru assessed the tree. Should he? Or was it a breach of decorum? There was no one else around. He took a deep breath and ran at the tree, hearing faintly her gasp of surprise at his unexpected burst of speed. The Kelpien leapt at the tree, clawed fingers digging into the ropy bark and feet pushing him upwards. He scaled the trunk, long legs and arms taking him higher and higher. When he felt the first branch flex under his weight, he stopped, and looked down. From fifteen meters below, Rian Thomas stared up at him, her mouth open in astonishment and eyes wide. "Like that?" he asked, and smiled.

* * *

The afternoon had passed too quickly. They'd returned to the ship and eaten dinner together, discussing the survey results from the planet, and parted as night fell.

The next day's shift had barely begun when the peaceful interlude was shattered. "Incoming message from Starfleet," Lt. Richter announced and Saru turned to him. "High priority but not classified."

"Put it on here, Lieutenant," Saru ordered, and a moment later, a holographic image of Admiral Cornwell appeared on the bridge. The crew quickly stood to attention.

"Admiral. I am Commander Saru."

She frowned slightly, her eyes coming to rest on the First Officer. "I have some bad news, Mr. Saru. The shuttle bearing Captain Lorca was ambushed last night. The pilot was killed in the subsequent firefight. Captain Lorca was captured by the Klingons."

Around the bridge there were stifled gasps. "Do we know where he was taken, Admiral?" asked Saru calmly.

"No. By the time we responded to the shuttles distress beacon, the enemies' warp trail had dissipated. Since you're acting captain, I'm sending you what little intel we have. This was a targeted abduction. It's possible that the Klingons have learned of the existence of the _Discovery's_ propulsion system, and taken Lorca to learn more. We need him back, Mr. Saru, before they pry those secrets out of him."

"We will find him, Admiral," Saru said firmly, nodding.

"Good luck." She faded out.

He turned, clicking to himself, thinking rapidly. "Lt. Detmer, set course for the shuttle's last known coordinates, maximum warp. Lt Owosekun, establish search parameters sector by sector. Calculate potential escape vectors correlating to all known Klingon bases, colonies, and planets within five light years." The two women nodded, turning back to their consoles, fingers flying as they followed orders.

Behind him the turbo lift doors opened, and his threat ganglia jutted out, tingling. He spun, hands brushing protectively at the tendrils, as Michael Burnham strode onto the bridge, looking around. "Burnham," he snapped, "what are you doing on the bridge?"

"I came to speak to Captain Lorca," she said and he frowned.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," he responded coolly, turning his back and continuing to direct the crew. "Commander Airiam, alert Lt. Stamets that we may be making multiple jumps in rapid succession throughout Klingon space to see if we can track the ship that made the abduction."

"Yes sir," she responded.

Behind him, Burnham spoke up. "Multiple jumps?" she questioned.

"Do you have an issue with that plan?" he inquired irritably, raising one eyebrow.

"I just don't know how feasible it's going to be," she said quietly, putting her hands behind her back, habit he recognized from the _Shenzhou_ , and one he had long suspected of betraying nervousness.

He glared at her. "In the ready room."

* * *

In the privacy of the captain's office, Saru indicated that they should sit, folded his hands and quickly updated the specialist on what had transpired. "If you have any information that I need to be aware of, please share it."

"I am concerned that we are negatively impacting the tardigrade with each jump we make," she said began gravely.

Saru frowned. "I was told it is virtually indestructible."

"I disagree with that assessment."

"Do you have proof that we are harming it?"

"Not as of yet."

Saru sighed. "I am not finding this information to be helpful, in any way. We are about to embark on a rescue mission to save the life of our captain. Are you suggesting we forego that?"

"No, of course not." Her eyes were earnest. "I'm just worried. I don't know how much more the tardigrade can sustain. The more you hurt someone, the less helpful they become."

"Focus on the task at hand. There will be no more discussion of the tardigrade until the captain is back safe. Understood?"

Burnham raised her chin, disappointment and disapproval clear in her eyes and tone. "Yes sir."

"You may go." Squaring her shoulders, the woman departed the ready room without a backwards glance, and he watched her go.

Shaking his head, the First Officer sighed and stood. "Computer. List Starfleet's most decorated captains, living and deceased."

"Working," it responded. A series of names appear on the screen. April, Archer, Decker, Georgiou, Pike...

He stopped it. "Based upon their service records, is it possible to identify the qualities most essential to their success?" He folded his arms, waiting.

"Characteristics most often cited include bravery, self-sacrifice, intelligence, tactical brilliance, compassion…"

"Computer," he interrupted it, "initial new protocol. Please record all data correlated with my performance as acting captain of _Discovery_ , and cross-reference with success parameters. Note where deviations occur."

"State the purpose of the new protocol," the computer responded.

"There is an element aboard this ship that causes me to second-guess myself. That cannot continue. I must remain clear-headed in pursuit of today's mission."

"Alternative solution," announced the computer. "Eliminate destructive element."

The Kelpien tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "Not an option."

* * *

"Lt. Rhys." Commander Saru entered the bridge. "When will your analysis of our long-range sensor data be complete? It is our only hope of closing in on Captain's Lorca's location."

The younger man nodded, turning back to his console and indicating a star map. "We've narrowed it down to three potential courses, all of which pass near or through the Mempa system."

Saru nodded. "Very good. Alert Mr. Stamets that we are ready to proceed with our rescue mission."

At her station, Joann Owosekun's hands flew over the console, as several indicators suddenly went red. She frowned at the readings. "Lt. Stamets has taken the spore drive offline, sir."

Saru took a deep breath and pivoted on one heel, striding toward the turbolift.

* * *

In engineering, Lt. Stamets and Michael Burnham stood before the main spore drive station, comparing DNA sequencing. Cadet Sylvia Tilly stood at the console, running research queries

"I don't understand," he said, puzzled. "You'd think any number of species would be compatible recipients of the tardigrade DNA sequence."

Tilly looked up. "I've had the computer run all known life forms in the Federation database. Should I try to access the classified database at the Daystrom Institute?"

Commander Saru strode through the upper bulkhead doors, angry. "No Cadet, you should not," he snapped, interrupting her. He glared at Lt. Stamets. " _Why_ did you shut down the spore drive? Up on the bridge we are trying to pinpoint the coordinates that will lead us to Captain Lorca."

Stamets frowned. "We're working on something extremely important—a substitute for the tardigrade."

"Why?"

"Burnham informed me that our jumps are depleting it."

He felt a rising tide of anger and strove to keep his voice level. "She brought these concerns to me as well." He speared Burnham with his eyes. "And I told her to _stand down_ until Captain Lorca was safely back on board _Discovery_. Obviously this was not the response she wanted!" He came down the stairs, closing the gap between them.

Burnham stepped forward, attempting a calm, lecturing voice to explain. "So far we've found one viable workaround." She brandished a hypospray. "This hypospray contains tardigrade DNA and a replication catalyst that will initiate rapid horizontal gene transfer in a host. The interface process requires an evolved organism, a species with a highly functioning nervous system, and one that, like the tardigrade, shares genetic information with mushrooms. The animal kingdom may have diverted from its fungal counterpart 600 million years ago, but _Homo sapiens_ still share over half of our DNA with them."

"You want to use a Human," Saru said, appalled. "Eugenics experiments are forbidden."

"I know. And that's why we need more time." She dared argue with him? Her tone was condescending, and his temper surged.

"I gave you an order! Do you understand?" Tilly and Stamets exchanged startled looks. This would not end well.

"Captain Saru, I understand that you are upset," she began, still in the same tone. "You're in command. It's a time of crisis. And your culture trains you to be on a heightened lookout for enemies. But I assure you—I'm not one of them."

She'd gone too far. He took one step forward, looming over her. "How _dare_ you treat me like one of your xenoanthropology subjects. You're not an enemy, Burnham; you are a proven _predator_! I know this not only because my instincts tell me that you are, but because your actions show me that you are! Saving this tardigrade will neither bring back nor change the fact that this is exactly the kind of behavior that killed Captain Georgiou." His voice was shaking. The shot struck home, and Burnham dropped her eyes.

She opened her mouth to argue once more, just as the ship's intercom chimed. "Bridge to the Captain. We believe we have identified the battle cruiser that is holding Captain Lorca."

"Acknowledged," he said over his shoulder, and turned back to them. "Lt Stamets, bring the drive back online and prepare the tardigarde to jump." Stamets nodded, and Tilly swallowed hard. He turned burning eyes down to Michael Burnham. "Confine yourself to quarters immediately." His voice cold as he raked her over with one more furious glance, and departed.

* * *

Fuming Saru shut his eyes, breathing deeply as the turbolift rose. He'd found some measure of calm and renewed purpose as he walked onto the bridge. "Commander Airiam, set displacement parameters to bring us within weapons range of our target Bird of Prey."

"Aye, sir." she nodded crisply, complying. He sat in the captain's chair and punched the intercom button. "Lt Stamets, are you ready?"

"Yes, captain."

He felt the eyes of the bridge crew on him, waiting. "Black Alert!" he ordered, and the alarms began sounding.

In engineering, the tardigrade was transported into the chamber and shackled, the probes piercing its flesh. It reared and roared in pain. On the bridge, the indicators flashed green.

"Go," Saru ordered, and Detmer pressed the engagement control. Inner and outer rings began to turn opposite each other, and _Discovery_ made the jump.

Many decks below in the spore transport chamber, the tardigrade collapsed, moaning and twitching, curling in on itself, shrinking as water pooled beneath.

Paul Stamets hit the intercom. "Engineering to Sickbay. Dr. Culber, we need you down here."

* * *

"The creature has gone into a state of extreme cryptobiosis, by reducing the water content levels of its body to less than one percent," explained Dr. Culber several minutes later. He and the engineer had entered the bridge, reporting to Commander Saru.. "Its vital signs have slowed to the point we can barely detect them."

Saru sighed. "Rehydrate it and bring it back. Mr. Rhys." The young officer turned. "Have we been detected?"

"Negative," he replied, and Dr. Culber stepped forward.

"Captain Saru, please" he began, but the Kelpien held up one hand, forestalling him.

"Location of Klingon prison ship?"

"Point seven AU's from our position, bearing one three mark five nine," replied Lt. Owosekun.

He looked at the helmsman. "Match their course and speed, maintain our distance." Keyla Detmer nodded and turned to comply. He turned to Owosekun. "Cut all systems and run silent." She nodded.

"Captain, we're not done here," Culber continued, trying to make him understand. "This isn't like waking someone from a nap. This is an extreme reaction to adverse conditions. The tardigrade is in survival mode."

"So are we, doctor" Saru said, exasperated. "Crack it open if you have to."

"In my opinion that will kill it."

"As it is our only way to get out of Klingon space, it is a risk we must take."

"Captain…neurological tests indicate that this creature may be sentient," Culber said earnestly.

"If that ends up being true, I will face the consequences of my actions," the First Officer replied. "I do not enjoy being in this position, and I have one hundred thirty-four souls to protect today. Be ready to force the creature to comply."

"I will not be party to murder," Culber responded, his dark eyes flashing.

Saru held up a hand to stop him, raising one finger. "Doctor, I was not talking to you." He dismissed the man without a glance, turning to the engineer. "Do _you_ understand my orders, and can I count on you to follow them, Lt. Stamets?" Culber turned expectantly.

"Yes sir," Stamets replied, and Culber gave him an incredulous look. Stamets returned a long steady glance, and both turned to the turbolift.

* * *

He stood on the bridge, watching the main screen as several small ships streaked toward them. "Klingon raiders sir, five ships and counting, heading right toward us," Detmer said.

"Red alert," Saru ordered calmly.

"We must have been spotted, sir," Owosekun said.

"Shall I lock on and prepare to fire?" Lt. Rhys, the tactical officer, asked, his hands hovering over the controls.

"The leader of the pack seems to have charted an erratic flight pattern," Saru said slowly, frowning at the screen, coming to stand between the helmsman and ops officer. Something was off.

"We are now within their weapons range. Should I lock phasers, sir?" Lt. Rhys asked anxiously.

But the Kelpien was frowning at the screen. He clicked at it. "Predators packs often split into smaller groups following their pursuit," he mused aloud. "One group initiating the chase, while another travels ahead of the prey's escape path… Hail that raider!"

Milton Richter turned. "Initiating communication will expose our position!"

Saru waved a hand irritably. "The lead vessel is being chased! It's our captain!" he snapped.

Richter spun around, tapping the controls. "Federation starship _Discovery_ to Klingon raider. Identify yourself!"

"This is Captain Lorca! Two to beam out, NOW," came the voice over the speakers.

Saru did not allow himself to feel relief. He looked at the screen. "Bridge to transporter room, do you have the lock?"

"Aye sir," came the reply.

"Lower your shields, Captain Lorca." He looked at the comm. "Energize!"

A few seconds later came a familiar voice. "Captain to bridge! You got us! Jump! Jump now!"

Saru turned. "Lt Stamets! Have you revived the tardigrade?"

"We are able to...jump, Commander" came the reply. Saru assumed the captain's chair.

"Klingon raiders detected our transporter signature. They're locking weapons," announced Rhys.

"Black Alert! Go!" He braced himself, and the ship jumped.

* * *

They came out of the jump into standard space, the crew looking around with smiles, relieved. "Bridge to Stamets. Congratulations, Lieutenant. Excellent work!" Saru said, pleased. _The day might not end badly after all_. Oddly, there was no answer. Saru frowned. "Lt Stamets, do you copy?"

Joann Owosekun began tracing the location of the engineer. She frowned, reading her monitors, and turned to look up at him. "Sir, Lt. Stamets is in engineering, but it seems his life signs are in distress."

Moving quickly, the Kelpien dashed toward engineering, overriding the locked doors. Below, Stamets' body could be seen lying on the floor of the spore chamber, motionless, blood trickling from his sides. "Open this door!" Saru ordered, and a tech hastened to comply. The others crowded around the glass as he entered, noting the DNA transference hypospray lying on the floor. Saru knelt and wrapped his long fingers around the engineer's head and throat, feeling for a pulse.

Behind him, Cadet Tilly gasped. "Captain, he…he injected himself with the tardigrade DNA compound. Is he dead?"

At the touch of the Kelpien's warm fingers, Stamets suddenly gasped and moved, his eyes flying open. "Did we make it?" he asked?

"Yes," Saru said, surprised, as the engineer began to grin and laughed hysterically. Saru exchanged glances with Tilly, who stared back, relieved and then bemused. Humans.

He placed hands on the engineer's shoulders, holding him still. "Sickbay, two for emergency transport."

* * *

Hours later, he walked slowly through the darkened corridors, exhausted but needing to do one more chore before retiring. He stopped outside the crew quarters doors, took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders, and pressed the chimes.

"Come."

He entered her darkened room. Burnham rose, standing in silence, her hands tucked behind her back. "Captain Lorca has been rescued. On the subject of the tardigrade, there has been a setback," he began.

Burnham nodded. "Cadet Tilly brought me up to speed," she said simply. She stared at his mid-section. "Sir…permission to speak freely?" Saru shut his eyes and nodded.

She looked up. "Sir…are you really afraid of me?"

He shook his head. It was time for brutal honesty. "I am not. I am angry at you. Angry because of how much you stole from me. I am deeply jealous that I never got the chance you had."

Understanding dawned. "To be Captain Georgiou's first officer."

The weight of it settled heavily on his shoulders and Saru shut his eyes. "You stood by her side and learned everything she had to teach. The anticipated scenario—you would move up—and out." He shook his head. "Captain your own starship. And I would take your place. I never got that chance. If I had…I would have been more prepared for today," he said quietly.

He too had loved Philippa Georgiou. Michael Burnhan stepped forward. "You did well. Very well." Her voice was soft, sincere. Saru shook his head, dismissing her words. "She would have thought so, too." He looked away. The Kelpien's grief was palatable in the darkened room. Perhaps she had misjudged him, had treated him as unfairly as he thought. Theirs had been almost a sibling rivalry. Would she always be searching for the approval and affection of a parent?

Michael turned and knelt, retrieving a cylindrical box from under her bunk and placing it on the table. She opened it, and curious, Saru walked up, surprised at seeing the battered instrument again. "Her telescope."

"She left it to me. It's yours now." The Kelpien could only stare at her, stunned, then began to decline her offer.

"You should have the privilege to see the universe the way she did." She turned away as he reached out one hand to gently stroke the tarnished instrument.

"Burnham." He sealed the precious case and lifted it carefully, facing her. "Captain Lorca has yet to be cleared for command. I have much to attend to. And I could use your help with one thing."

"Of course." She blinked back tears at his gentle tone.

"Dr Culber believes the tardigrade is sentient. It remains in a state of cryptobiosis. We have no claim on its soul. Go save its life, Burnham. That's an order."

And she nodded.

* * *

In the captain's ready room, Saru watched the tardigrade's launch into space. The scanners showed it slowly emerge from its hibernative state and then disappear into the mycelial network. Some of the heaviness seemed to lift. Starfleet would no doubt reprimand him for losing such an asset, but Saru felt he could have done nothing else.

After a moment, he engaged the computer, bringing up the command evaluation program. "Initiating performance review, acting Captain Saru," it said. He clicked at it, shaking his head, and cleared the file. "Protocol cancelled."

For a moment, he stood there in thought, then settled his shoulders. "I know what I did," he said simply.

* * *

Rian Thomas was leaving the forward lounge just as he approached. She stopped, waiting for him. "Here's the man of the hour," she said, and her smile widened at his confusion.

"Are you leaving? I had hoped to…it's been some days since I've seen you."

The lieutenant shook her head. "I was just leaving, yes. I'd come by for some tea, but it's a little loud in there with the celebrations." The doors snapped open again and a wave of sound spilled out.

Saru pulled back, discomfited. "A little loud, yes."

She looked up. "I'm headed back to my quarters, if you'd care to join me. I'd appreciate the company."

He fell into step beside her. "I would enjoy that. Thank you."

They entered her quarters and Rian dropped her Padd on the desk. He looked around with curiosity. The two-room suite was somewhat smaller than his own, all browns, blues, greys, and greens. A framed print of a mountain scene hung on one wall. Beneath it a woven blanket draped across her sofa bench near the desk, a table and chairs rounding out the sitting area. A few living plants flourished under a grow light along one shelf, and a collection of books decorated her personal space.

She ordered tea for them both from the replicator and sat across from him at the table.

"Celebration?" he asked, remembering her earlier words.

"Captain Lorca's return. And that prisoner who got rescued. Everybody's pretty happy about both. And even the tardigrade…you saved it too."

He blinked at her. "Rian, I am…ashamed of that, of using a sentient species for our own purposes. And now it's lost to Starfleet as well. I will no doubt be held accountable for it." He leaned forward on his elbows, staring down into the tea. "And as for the others, I had nothing to do with the Lieutenant's rescue. Captain Lorca saved them both. I can take credit for none of these events."

Rian frowned, speaking slowly. "You knew somehow that was the Captain in that Klingon raider ship, from what I've heard. The bridge crew was saying it was like wizardry."

He flicked his fingers dismissively. "Merely a knowledge of how hunting packs operate. It was not anything profound."

"And the tardigrade…you did the ethical thing, releasing it. Sylvia Tilly was telling us about that."

"It is Michael Burnham and Doctor Culber who deserve the credit for that, not I."

She slid a hand across, clasping his own. "Saru…Commander…you're too hard on yourself. You made the hard decisions…you did what was needed, and it worked. Everyone's safe."

He stared down at their hands, and removed his hand from her gentle grasp. No one touched him; it was an odd sensation and not unpleasant. He awkwardly covered her smaller hand with his own and released it. "Thank you."

"You look tired."

"I am," he admitted. "It has been a very long day."

"Do you need to go, to rest?"

Saru rolled his head, feeling the dull throb behind his eyes. "Not yet. This is…being here is rather peaceful."

He was not aware of having shut his eyes, but a moment later he was startled to find her standing behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders. "Relax," she said softly. Beneath her palms she felt him tense at the contact; his muscles like iron bands. "In Humans, this helps sometimes. Tell me if I hurt you."

At that his eyes did open, a trace of amusement coming into his voice. "I doubt you would be able to do so."

Rian squeezed his shoulders experimentally, and he tensed again, muscles bunching at the touch. She began to rhythmically knead his stiff shoulders and the heavy muscles at his neck, feeling him quiver. After a moment Saru began to relax, a pleasant lethargy stealing over him. This touching was perhaps not a bad thing. "Harder," he murmured, and she smiled.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed Chapter 3. Thank you for reading, and please review. :)


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